


boy, you've been a naughty girl

by orphan_account



Category: Mawaru Penguindrum
Genre: Crossdressing, M/M, Pseudo-Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-21
Updated: 2013-05-21
Packaged: 2017-12-12 13:13:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,109
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/811964
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Shouma didn't expect to become Himari's replacement. He wasn't complaining, though.</p>
            </blockquote>





	boy, you've been a naughty girl

Shouma had a few secrets. Everyone did — that was normal. Shouma would keep secrets between Kanba and himself, as well as Himari and himself. He’d shush #2 when he’d steal a taste while cooking and would keep his nightmares between Kanba and himself. It was a natural thing. Personal secrets, something not even the penguins knew, were something he had, as well.   
  
His most deep, dark secrets just happened to be rather abnormal.  
  
And rather difficult to keep, given the small house they called a home. Sharing a room with Kanba restricted him. Himari being ill restricted him. Yet, when he got alone time (with Himari out with Ringo and Kanba out doing his shady business/going out on dates with girls) he took advantage of it. Having coaxed #2 to do the cleaning he insisted on doing, he moved quickly, making sure the door was locked and he wasn’t going to be barged in on. Heart pounding, he moved to Himari’s room, shutting the door behind him.   
  
 _Finally._  
  
It was a relief to be able to have this privacy. He had been holding his urges in long enough. There was a point when starting this had made him embarrassed, had humiliated him. Now it was like being able to be himself in a strange way. He always held up masks for Himari and Kanba. This was no different, he supposed. Just a little dirty secret. Something he had to get out of his system every once in a while.  
  
Opening his sister’s closet, he felt himself become incredibly happy. Just… glad to see the cute dresses, skirts and blouses. The flats and heels that were hardly worn. The girls’ pajamas. It made him blush a little, adrenaline pumping at the thought of finally fitting back into these clothes. Swallowing hard, he undressed out of his plain, casual clothes, orange shirt quickly on the ground, followed by girlish (yet perfectly neutral) khakis. His underwear stayed on and Shouma gave a brief glance to himself in the mirror. He looked away. Himari was so lucky. He’d always envied her, he supposed. Kanba and him had matching clothes. Dull clothes. Himari had bright, flowing, beautiful clothes. She was always the Takakura’s doll. It made him a little sad to know he could never have that. He wasn’t even supposed to want it, after all. He was a boy.  
  
But right now, he could do whatever he wanted. Shouma reached out for the dress Himari loved most. It smelled fresh, since he had done laundry recently. Her presence lingered, her good-natured spirit resonated in the girl’s material. Smiling a little, he slipped it on carefully. He was the perfect size, despite being a boy. His build was small-framed enough. Kanba held all the air of masculinity while Shouma was femininity in male form. The dress, when fixed and completely situated, fit him perfectly. He blinked his green eyes, ran his fingers through blue hair. Lips curved up more, he slipped on some flats and stepped back.   
  
He breathed out. Finally. He could lift up the ends of the dress, could twirl and feel the breeze. Shouma wanted to lay in the girl’s bed and sleep like a princess, like a little doll. Before he could make any attempt to do that, he quickly moved to his little bag he had, rummaging through. A modest red lipstick. Blush. Eye shadow. Just about everything a girl should have, he secretly had. It was actually bought by Shouma for Himari one year, but she politely declined it. That was more than fine with him. He was able to apply the blush with the small brush, getting a soft color for his eyes and applying the lipstick last. Before he did, he looked at himself, opening his mouth a tad. He never messed up when putting on make-up, not anymore. He was calculating as he moved the red lipstick over his lips, careful to not get it on his clean teeth or on his soft skin.   
  
Rubbing his lips together, he made a soft “pop” noise as he completed the process. He put the things away, kicked everything aside. If he was really bold, maybe he’d have taken a picture. That could easily have been snooped out by Kanba. He couldn’t chance that, no matter how much he wanted to savor the image of himself looking the way he did. Clearing his throat, he bowed.  
  
"Hello. I’m Takakura Shouko, Takakura Kanba's little sister. Please treat me well," he stated. Shouma bowed again, smiling once he looked at himself again.  _Shouko._  Shouma was a fine name. Nothing was wrong with it. He could have gotten away with using that.  _-ko_  names were so traditional, anyway.  
  
But he loved that. The traditional girl. Modest, yet bold. Virginal, yet experienced. A contradiction. Shouma was a contradiction, himself. He was called feminine names and he always rolled his eyes or interjected, yet he liked it deep down. Kanba had called him a housewife. He relished in it. Shouma had imagined being in a frillier apron, cooking dinner for Kanba. Maybe wearing Himari’s clothes. Making him happy.   
  
“Brother.” A soft whisper. A girlish, frail little calling of his brother’s name. The way Himari would call Kanba. Shouma tugged on the blue dress, feeling his face heat up more. Already, he was getting hard. It never took long for this to happen. He swallowed hard, lifting it up slowly, watching the movements in the body-mirror. Shaking just a little, he looked at the boyish underwear, contrasting everything else about him. Moving, he kneeled down onto the floor, lowering the underwear a bit as he got his hard cock out, not wanting to focus on it. He didn’t imagine Himari seeing him or just her in general. He never thought of Himari. He only thought of their brother, how they’d react. If he was a girl, would Kanba love him the way he loved Himari? Would he want to touch his body, if he was a girl?   
  
Swallowing hard, he gripped himself tighter. “ _Kanba,_ ” he murmured, moaning quietly after. Shouma looked at himself, thumb over the tip of his cock, hand moving faster. The dress was so comforting. It was a symbol of all that he wished he could be for Kanba. For Kanba, he wanted to be Himari. He wanted to be Himari for her sake, too. Wanted to take the punishment. Wanted them to be happy. Pausing, he licked his palm, making the movements faster and his cock slick. He whined, moving his hips slowly. Leaning forward, he steadied himself with his free hand, letting the dress fall. Not able to see himself pump his cock any longer sent a thrill down his spine. It was so easy to pretend it wasn’t happening.   
  
He repeated Kanba’s name, moving his hand faster. To be Kanba’s housewife would mean so many things to him. Cooking, cleaning, massaging him after a hard day’s work. Bending over when Kanba said to, taking it roughly over the counter or gently in bed. Going for many rounds and not wanting to stop. Wearing lingerie for him, waiting in bed when Kanba had a long day of work. He clenched his jaw. It was difficult to look at himself, now. His gaze wouldn’t focus. His eyebrows were furrowed and his breathing was ragged. He moved fast, hips bucking. Close. So fucking close. Shouting out, he covered the head of his cock as best as he could, lifting the dress so his cum didn’t stain it. He made a mess of his hand and some of it dripping to the floor.   
  
Gasping, Shouma steadied himself on his knees, back arched and his hips shaking a little. He refrained from biting a red lip, instead pulling away to look at his wet cock, stained hand. Unashamed, he lapped up what was in his palm, quickly moving even in his post-orgasm daze and slight tiredness to clean up. He had to get rid of any evidence as soon as possible. Questions would be bad. A concerned Himari would raise questions with Kanba. Kanba would  _find out._  
  
He heard a creak and froze up. His eyes went wide. #2 was busy. The house didn’t just creak for no reason. Swallowing carefully, Shouma looked over his shoulder, finishing up wiping himself and the floor. He was rigid. It wasn’t his imagination. He heard that.  
  
There was a small grunt. That was unquestionably real. Shouma felt his grip loosen on the tissues.  
  
The tension was almost tangible. There couldn’t have been anyone there. No, no way. That wasn’t a sound #2 could even make, right? Could penguins grunt? His head felt heavy and his body was tense. Please just let it be his crazy imagination. Please don’t let it be —  
  
Another creak and the door actually opened. Shouma turned around, almost falling as he forgot to pull his underwear back up. Tissues in a disposable trash can, he worked on pulling his underwear on as someone entered the room.   
  
“Kan— Kanba,” Shouma whispered, already the fear really settling in. Kanba was there. Kanba had seen him. His pants were unbuttoned - his face flushed. His brother’s jaw was set. His hands were in fists. Unable to say anything, both were rooted at the spot. Adrenaline and tension coursed and breathed life into the room. What happened next was just instinct. Shouma had opened those red lips and Kanba had moved faster than the other could talk, had pulled him by Himari’s dress and shoved him onto his back where he wanted him, his hand over the ruby lips. Immediately, Shouma felt something sticky and wet. He’d come. Kanba had come into his palm, just like he did. Yet, he didn’t clean up. He saved it for Shouma.   
  
“You’re terrible. What were you thinking? This is  _Himari’s,_ ” Kanba spat, shoving his hand further against him. Shouma squirmed, eyes wide still. He shook his head, moving his hands to push him away. This was why he didn’t want anyone to find out. No one was supposed to. This was terrible. It had turned Kanba on, though, that was for sure. He had jerked his dick to his little brother in their sister’s clothes. He had heard his name moaned. The fact had been that Shouma thought of him. Shouma wanted Kanba. Well. He’d get him.  
  
His matching green eyes roved over Shouma. He fit the girl’s clothes too well. His eyes were steel, intense. Breathing out hard, Kanba could feel himself getting turned on all over again. Having watched Shouma jerk himself off, having seen him dress up in the first place, he’d jerked himself off. It was amazing. It felt fucking great. It turned him on more than any idol or model or girlfriend he’d slept with. Shouma embracing everything he denied. Shouma trying to be Himari. For him? Was this all for him?  
  
“What the hell were you thinking?” he hissed, repeating himself, narrowing his eyes. Shouma had tears in his, the eyes shining and pleading for him to stop. Swallowing hard, Kanba looked at his hand covering those pretty lips. “Lick it. That was what you wanted, right? Don’t you still want me?”  
  
God, did he ever. Shouma was scared, of course. Kanba had shoved him to the floor, had seen him masturbate and do everything else he had wanted to keep in Himari’s and his own closet. But maybe he could convince him, work things out. Maybe he could become what he always wanted to be. So, without further hesitation, he licked the cum off. Shutting his eyes, he moved his tongue until he got a good amount, swallowing it down carefully. It was salty. A bit nastier than he imagined, maybe. He didn’t show disgust or distaste. Shouma pushed himself further, quickly kissing and lapping up all the cum on his palm, breathing out when Kanba pulled his wet hand away.   
  
“You enjoyed that?”   
  
A hesitant pause.  
  
“Yeah. Y-Yeah, I did.”  
  
Kanba frowned. As quick as he had pushed him down, his hands were pulling up the dress, looking at his boxer-briefs. His little brother blinked his eyes. It hadn’t occurred to him he’d keep going. Looking down, he saw Kanba was already hard again. Some stamina he had.   
  
“Wait-“  
  
“Did you think you could be Himari’s replacement?” The question was cold. It froze Shouma. He looked away, guilty. He knew he never could. Himari was Himari. Shouma was Shouma. No one else. He shook his head — he had  _wanted_  to be her replacement, but he knew that’d never happen. He heard a small  _tsk_  and glanced back. His underwear was pulled down. Kanba was getting undressed. Spreading his legs, Shouma hoisted the dress up. This was happening, wasn’t it? This was how everything was going to fall into place. He’d give up his secret, his innocence, everything.   
  
It was all for Kanba.   
  
Cold eyes looked up at him. Shouma was laid out for him so easily, giving in so quickly. He wanted this. It almost sickened Kanba. Shouma had wanted to be fucked by Kanba. His anger was rising. The arousal wanted him to just go through with it and leave, clear his head, but he was still so mad with Shouma, so sickened and enraged. Before he could think more, his hands were around Shouma’s throat.  
  
“Don’t you ever think you can replace her. Don’t you ever wear  _her_  clothes again.” His grip tightened. Shouma gasped out, shutting his eyes in pain. He moved his hands to pry at Kanba’s. The grip didn’t loosen. It hurt. He couldn’t breathe. Kanba pulled away his hands. Retracting one of them, he slapped a rosy cheek. It stung, making Shouma cry out as he tried catching his breath. Tears were rolling down his cheek while Kanba raised his hand again. Despite seeing him cry, filled with remorse, his actor’s mask gone and broken on the ground, he struck him again.  
  
Of course Kanba hated him for it. How could he not? How couldn’t he have seen this coming? Was he so optimistic to think it’d be all right with him?  
  
His brother stopped, waiting for a moment. Seeking the marks on his throat, where he’d probably leave even more bruises, the stinging marks to his face and those tears all framed by make-up on his brother’s face eased the sickness. Certainly it increased the arousal. He wanted to choke him more, make him sob and apologize,  _beg_  for forgiveness.  
  
Kanba pulled him, sat back and put his palm to the back of Shouma’s blue hair, gripping, he pulled him in until his face hit his cock. “Suck it.”  
  
He supported himself on his hands. Shouma took in the feeling of Kanba’s hot, hard cock against his stinging cheek. Before he complied, he wiped his eyes, focused on what he was told to do. Nodding, he ran his tongue over the length, the hardness almost surprising him a little. It felt strange on his tongue. It was still wet from cum and he could taste some of it. Though inexperienced, he did his best, experimenting, looking up to Kanba. He pressed his lips to the head, kissing, sucking, working him with his hand as he moved.   
  
It was a little frustrating. Shouma had no idea what to do. He fumbled. He tried, he could give his brother that. The visual aroused him. Shouma in a dress, in Himari’s dress. His face.  _Fuck,_  his face. Ah, that’s what he wanted to do. He still wanted to choke him. Drive home that message nice and deep that he shouldn’t do this. At least get his own clothes. He’d have helped him.  
  
Gripping hard, he tugged and moved carefully enough, using his free hand to guide his bloated cock to Shouma’s lips. He had paused looking up, and was soon making a choked noise as Kanba rammed into his mouth. He breathed out hard, grunting as he felt Shouma’s mouth around him. He didn’t care if he hurt him. He needed the vision and reality to mesh, he needed to choke him with his cock, the thing he wanted the most.   
  
When he felt the vibrations of a moan around him, he almost lost it. Shouma was still getting off to it. The violence. The way he could gag if Kanba wasn’t careful (his shallow thrusts were forceful, but he had complete control over his movements). It was getting the feminine boy off. He stilled, letting Kanba thrust faster, gripping his hair and yanking back. He wanted to berate him, call him a filthy slut, tell him he’s a whore, that those red lips were perfect to suck dick with, that he must have been dying for this moment. But he didn’t. He couldn’t.   
  
His hips moved faster. Shouma wanted to jerk himself off so badly. He was aching, loving every thrust, loving every grunt and groan made from the other. He had been scared seconds prior, but now he was in love with everything. He sucked hard, cheeks hollowed. Shit. He couldn’t take much more of this. Shouma was moving now, bobbing his head. His gaze was focused on his. Kanba’s thrusts stopped. Everything was at Shouma’s pace. It was happening to fast, he was going to come again.   
  
Hating to stop it, he yanked back again, cock throbbing as he withdrew sharply. Shouma let a string of saliva drip down and he kept his lips parted, face swollen and red and absolutely divine. Rough treatment worked well on his pretty little face. He could treat him rougher, really get him off. But, he couldn’t think about that anymore — he had to focus on getting off.   
  
“Hike that dress up and bend over. Get your face on that floor. Where’d you come? Put your face there. Stick your ass out.” The orders came in short, breathless phrases. Shouma nodded eagerly. When Kanba would give the order, he’d bend over. That was the duty of a housewife and that was his dream, wasn’t it? He complied, breathless, aching. His throat hurt. His face hurt. Everything in him hurt and felt damaged but he still thought he was pretty. He had the dress on. He had make-up on. Kanba was still aroused. He must think he was pretty.  
  
Face pressed up against the floor, he stayed on his knees, ass raised as the dress was hiked, hard cock visible from behind. Kanba rummaged quickly. He had lube, always had some lube and condoms, but he wasn’t about to fuck Shouma with one. He had to make this quick. He was aching and he wanted this to be done. Himari could be home any second. Ringo would probably drop by. It was all so risky, but that was a part of the thrill.  
  
Uncapping the lube, he squirted some out. He didn’t waste time, teasing the tight hole and pushing in. It wasn’t too much of a struggle. He grinned, unable to help himself from doing so as he slid his finger in, curving it. “That was a bit too easy. You finger yourself?”  
  
“Some... sometimes,” Shouma croaked, moaning a little. He grit his teeth, glancing at the body mirror he had jerked himself off in front of. Amazing. This was really happening. Kanba was fingering him, thrusting his finger in and out and getting him to moan hard. He was rocking back and forth, jolting when a second finger was shoved up there. A twist, a curve, another thrust with them and he cried out. Kanba breathed hard as he fucked him with his fingers, stretching him out. He teased with his third, gave him it just to make sure it was stretched enough. He wanted that hole to stretch out more. Wanted to see him with that hole inviting him inside. Pulling them out, he coated his dick, pre-cum dripping from the tip.  
  
“Spread yourself for me,” he murmured, getting close. Shouma grinned, leaning on the good side of his face, hands moving back to spread apart his ass cheeks, hole stretching and inviting him. Kanba licked his lips, rubbing himself a bit more. He teased the entrance with his tip, rubbing against it and looking down at him.   
  
“ _Brother._ ” A whine escaped Shouma, hitting Kanba’s core. He was snapped out of his teasing and he watched his brother’s hands move away, a cue to get a move on. Preparing himself mentally, he made a quick thrust in and bit back a hard groan. It had been a while. He hardly ever did anal. He never even fucked a guy before. What a lucky doll his brother was. His brother, who was speechless and tight around him, was so lucky. Kanba was inside of him, pushing in deeper until he was all the way in. It was hot. Almost too tight. Fuck, it was great. It was too great. He was enraptured by everything once more, by the reality that he wasn’t even thinking of Himari. He was thinking of Shouma. Shouma, in his girl’s clothes, in his pretty make-up.   
  
“Cute,” he whispered, feeling him pulse around him — tense and then loose, trying to adjust. He had tears in his eyes again. It was beautiful. Kanba couldn’t handle it. He moved before Shouma could give him the go-ahead, moved consistently even if he wasn’t ready. He heard shouts and cries, but he wouldn’t stop. He was driven on instinct, rocking deep within him, giving short thrusts. He groaned, leaning close and moving expertly, grinding his hips. “ _Fuck._ ”  
  
“Ka-a-anba!” Shouma cried, moaning louder and shaking with every thrust. He couldn’t focus. His gaze went nowhere, not even to the mirror. Eventually he just shut his eyes, pre-cum leaking down his cock as well. He was hit behind from Kanba, who even smacked his ass, forcing him closer to the edge.   
  
“You’re such a good little girl,” Kanba breathed, close to Shouma’s ear. He fucked him harder, rolling his hips. He gripped both sides of Shouma’s hips, picking up the pace. He cursed loudly, grunting. “That’s what you want to be, huh? You want to be  _my_  girl, don’t you?”  
  
“Yes!” Shouma yelled, shutting his eyes tighter. He pounded the floor with his fists, shouting again, tighter around him. He felt a hard slam and was pushed forward, bucking and feeling his release coming. Kanba lowered his head, digging his nails in hard into soft flesh.   
  
“Shit! Gonna come,” he whispered, voice raspy as he started feeling the climax coming on, hips moving faster and faster, harder, his grip a vice on Shouma’s hips as he looked at him, looked at himself fucking Shouma in the mirror. That sealed it. Seeing Shouma being fucked by him in that signature dress, his make up smearing, his face a mess. It all hit him and Kanba shouted in surprise, arching forward as he came hard, bucking to shoot that load as deep as he could, wanting to fill Shouma up. He could hear those whoreish moans still, feeling him clenching around him with those hot inner walls, the little brother probably coming. It fell on deaf ears, as Kanba rode his out and only cared about his own, slowing down once he fell back down to reality. Shouma was panting. He had come, once Kanba looked, staining the dress. He dirtied what he didn’t want to dirty, tainting it. Kanba was too wrapped up in his post-orgasm to yell, to hit him again. He’d clean it. He shouldn’t have taken it out on him anyway.  
  
Pulling out slowly, he gave a good look at his work. Shouma hadn’t moved, wanting to find his breath and regulate his heart beat, first. He looked pretty sexy like that. Cum inside of his hole, the warmth probably making him reel in pleasure still. Who knew he was like that? He was hypersexual. It’d make for good blackmail. He wanted to take a picture, but fuck if anyone saw that, he’d die of shame from immortalizing the moment. Kanba had his devious imagination. That was enough.  
  
Kanba sighed, leaning over to stroke his hair. He cleaned himself up after. The moment was dragging out and he had to make it seem like it didn’t happen. Shouma eventually moved, having to hold in Kanba’s cum and awkwardly undress. He looked up at Kanba, who stared at him for a little bit. They’d shower, wash the clothes, make sure no evidence remained, would pretend it never happened, and would probably contradict themselves later with a fuck in the shower late in the evening or in their bedroom. For now, Kanba grinned, looking Shouma over again.  
  
“Good girl.”


End file.
